


Play with Fire

by irolltwenties (Shenanigans)



Series: Til the Night [4]
Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Gen, Prologue, Stand Alone, riddled with plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-29 03:35:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19821724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shenanigans/pseuds/irolltwenties
Summary: Prologue toEnds of the Earththe sequel toTil the Night is Over.





	Play with Fire

Underground the compound stayed silent. In the dark, the air rolling across the brand new vents the only movement, the metal duct work shiny and untouched. The vehicle bay stayed empty, nearly spotless except for the littered remains of violence and the silent body of Chief Master Sergeant Jesse Manes. The floor was nearly smooth, smattered with the tacky puddles of drying blood and the streaks of tire marks. The segmented garage door stayed a solid presence in the unbroken quiet. It had been sealed for nine days, the motion sensors quiet, the lights shattered, and the servers dark. Underground the air stayed cool, circulating around the corpse and maintaining a near hermetic seal.

"Open it." 

The metal gridlinked door shattered the silence as it clattered into motion, pulling taut and then scrolling upward. The dark was broken by the strict tight beams strapped to the squad's rifles, each pointed carefully just past where Harlan Manes stood, casual in the slim cut black suit and tie. He wet his lips, tilting his head at where his father's body lay, before chucking his chin and sending the squad slinking forward.

The five moved in unison, tactical boots careful as they swept past him and into the empty bay. Each light moved in a different arc, sweeping corners and then up to pause before snapping back to center. Harlan stayed behind, dropping easily into squad leader position, shadowed as the lights left him. He seemed monochromatic, crisp white shirt, flicker of straight white teeth when he smiled under eyes gone liquid and dark swallowed by the shadows. He was contrasts as the light blurred him, mouth soft and cheekbones sharp. He watched the body for a breath longer, hand tucked into the pocket of his pants before he kicked into motion, strolling forward and nudging the weight of his father’s remains with the polished tip of his expensive oxford. He sniffed, sucking his teeth and shaking his head before moving towards the squad member on his left. 

“Get rid of that.”

As his point fell back, lifting a hand another squad member folded into their place. Harlan pointed at the closed door. The room went light as Jesse Manes’ body caught fire, white hot and lit from within as the first squad member held a hand toward the blaze. The flames moved quickly from the orange soft glow to the blue white heat of a blow torch, the blaze glittering in the black goggles the squad members wore. The one that had moved to point, taller than the first, but still not as broad as the fall back member or as tall as the right hand flank, lifted a hand, nodding quick to the side as the door was shoved open, moved by an unseen force. Harlan paused as the smallest, the right hand flank dropped and moved to the door, flicking the sight around the hallway before moving through the door. The point followed and then Harlan, the last three squad members following and protecting the flank and rear as they swarmed through the facility.

The team moved silently together, quick paused moments before flicking into action. They swept easily down the hall, soles of their boots barely making a noise even as Harlan’s oxfords clicked in neat time on the tile. The hallways stayed dark, just flickers of shadows from the lights and the slow roll of shadows pressing in behind them. Harlan waited at the next locked door, the tallest member of the squad nodding it open before the smallest ducked through into the dark. They had a pattern, the broadest staying just to Harlan’s left and the smallest ducking into the rooms first. Behind him the rear guard kept the flashlight pointed the way they had come while the tall lithe squad member to his right would wait for his subtle signals before moving. The main compound room looked ghostly, pale walls and floors reflecting the flashlights and catching on the soft polish of the white table in the center of the room. Harlan pulled the team to a stop, motioning for the tall team member to his right to move to the bank of servers while the broadest paused to check over the black monitors.

“Clear.”

“Clear.”

“Room secure, sir.”

“Get the lights on.” Harlan paused, rubbing a bit of grit from the corner of his eye, frowning slightly before glancing up and flicking his hand at the squad. “Sooner would be better.”

Harlan strolled to the open door, pausing to squint at the palm panel with a frown. He looked down the hall, counting the cells absently before coughing delicately. “November. Tango. Take point.” He looked over his shoulder as the tallest and smallest of the team peeled away from what they’d been doing, shouldering their weapons and moving to join him in the doorway. “Whiskey, _get the lights on_. Foxtrot, fix these doors.” He paused, glancing to the last team member. “Romeo, watch the hall.”

“Yes, sir.” Three voices in unison.

“Sweep the hall. We have to secure the subjects.” He nodded down the darkened hallway as the smallest team member moved forward, slinking into the dark and snapping the tip of the rifle into each cell, checking before moving to the next. The tallest stayed by his side, watching down the hallway. Behind them, the broadest team member moved to drop their bag next to the palm reader as the one called Whiskey moved to a massive fuse box, opening it with a clatter and pulling the glove off of their right hand, setting delicate boned fingers against the tangle and blackened mess before a soft pulse of light lit the box and the emergency floods kicked on with a squeal of sound that deafened once and flicked off. The lights spread out from where they stood, clicking on throughout the compound and the rack of servers stuttered into life. Down the hall doors started snapping shut, override protocols still in place even as Harlan and November started following Tango down the cleared hall to the next door. It opened and they stepped into a cargo elevator.

“Hold pattern,” Harlan said, voice even as he leaned back against the wall, pausing to pluck his phone from his pocket, scrolling through messages as the numbers counted down and the elevator sank into the sub level storage. November and Tango simply stilled, one watching the back door and the other watching the front. When the doors slid open November shouldered their rifle, stepping forward into the yawning storage area, racks of lit pods in motion, bodies twisting and fighting in the warm glow of the light. November stilled, Tango joining their side as they stared out across the space. Harlan didn’t look up from his phone as he moved around them, walking down the polished cement to the first rack. Behind him, November reached, pulling his mask up and over his head to hang at his side. 

A young scarred man who looked like Noah Bracken stared, wide eyed at the nearly endless seeming stacks of Alien Pods. Beside him a slight redheaded girl of about fourteen peeled her mask off, shaking out her hair and rubbing at the marks around her eyes where the goggles had sat. “That’s a lot, November.” She grinned, small gap in her front teeth as she rolled her eyes over at him.

November nodded, features sharp and hair cow licked as he sighed. “Yeah.”

“Start moving the subjects to quarantine and containment once the power grid is repaired.” Harlan glanced up and over to November. “Tighten up. We have work to do.”

“Yes, sir.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [Tumblr ](https://irolltwenties.tumblr.com) if you want to come flail with me.


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